Yellow Crayon
by ShinkisRule
Summary: Suddenly, the crayon snapped in two right under Willow's fingers, with a horrible sound.


**Early this summer, teennick started showing Buffy. I walked in on my mom watching Ted (she's a long time whedonist, kudos to her :D ), and I became obsessed almost instantly. They stopped showing it around Dopplegangland… Grrr… But then I just watched it online without Degrassi commercials every 10 minutes. Muahahaha. I just finished season 6. I'd wanted to write a oneshot about Giles for so long, 'cause he's my favorite, but I couldn't think of a good plot… Then I watched Grave yesterday, and it gave me something. Not about Giles, though, but still. I was worried there were like 50 fics about the yellow crayon, but apparently there's only one that actually tells the story. And it's nothing like what I have. So I'm good to write this, teehee. Thank you Joss, for putting in random adorable references to characters' childhoods and giving us plot bunnies. :3 Or maybe plot midgets. Whatever works for you.**

Yellow Crayon

_What to draw, what to draw…?_

That same sentence had been running through Willow's mind since her new teacher handed her a piece of paper. There was a huge box of crayons in the middle of the table, and she planned to take one eventually. But she didn't want to do that until she actually knew what she was drawing. What if other people needed the colors she had, and she was never even going to use them? That would have been horribly selfish of her. So first she needed an idea. Willow didn't know if she was an artist or not, she'd never tried drawing anything before… This was all so new and exciting to her, maybe she could grow up to be like Da Vinci or Michelangelo or Van Gogh. Willow had always loved that painting of his, all the stars swirling around and around. She'd had a picture of it framed in her room for as long as she could remember, she'd spend hours just staring at it until she got dizzy. Maybe she could draw something like that… No, she was still an amateur. She couldn't pull off something that complex yet. Maybe one of his simpler works, like the sunflowers… Yes, that was what she'd start with. Not a whole vase, though, no need to rush things. Just one sunflower for now.

Willow reached into the box of crayons, proud of herself now that she had inspiration. She owed it all to Van Gogh, really. Of course, she needed yellow… And brown for the middle, and green for the stem.

Willow paused, her hand right over the box. She looked around the classroom. Someone else may have wanted those colors before her… Was there anyone who looked like they wanted them?

Willow frowned. There was really no way to tell unless she was bestowed with mind-reading abilities. She hesitated, but took the three colors and hoped for the best.

The stem would be fairly simple, so Willow would start with that. She picked up the green crayon and brought it to the paper. Her hand was shaking a little, she was just a bit nervous. She'd never done this before… Willow forced her hand to steady and slowly drew a line across the paper. Once that was done, she quickly threw the crayon back into the box. It was pointless keeping it any longer than she needed to.

The middle of the sunflower was simple, just a big circle. Like the letter O. She learned that when her parents taught her how to write her name. This time she just had to fill it in. So now there was a big brown circle on top of a green line.

All that was left now was the yellow crayon… The petals were the most complex part of the flower, this would take a bit longer than the rest did. Willow cracked her knuckles and gave her best shot at it.

For a moment, she couldn't quite see what she'd drawn. Yellow was rather light compared to the other colors she'd used, maybe she'd been drawing a bit softer than the other children. The strokes were definitely there, she just needed to make them more evident. Willow pressed harder, surely that was all she needed to do. It started to come out brighter…

Suddenly, the crayon snapped in two right under Willow's fingers, with a horrible sound.

Willow gasped and picked up the pieces of the crayon, hands shaking. She slowly pieced it back together. She looked around the room and sighed. No one was looking at her, and she fixed it. Her grip relaxed. The crayon fell apart again. Willow tried to repeat what she'd just done, but no matter what, it just wouldn't stick. She frantically pushed and twisted the pieces together harder and harder. Nothing was working. Willow began to whimper, her eyes filling with tears.

No. She couldn't cry. Not on her first day. If she cried on her first day, that would be what everyone knew her for. She'd be labeled as a crybaby for the rest of her life. They'd make jokes about her name, call her Weeping Willow or something like that… She rubbed her eyes as dry as she could, then looked back at the pieces of crayon in her hand. She couldn't believe what she'd done… If someone found out…

Willow swung her head back and forth to make sure no one would see, and quietly snuck the pieces into her backpack. An overwhelming guilt swept through her as she stared at the table, trying to look inconspicuous. She knew it was wrong. But what would happen to her if anyone found out what she did? She couldn't bear the thought of getting in trouble. And on the first day… How could she do this? She broke the yellow crayon…

"Hey," came a voice from behind, "Hey, you."

Willow gasped and closed her eyes as tight as she could, desperately hoping that wasn't directed at her.

"You," the voice repeated, "Redheaded girl."

Willow opened her eyes and slowly turned around. Sitting at the table behind her was a boy, staring at her with beady eyes.

"M-me?" Willow stammered.

"Yeah, you," the boy replied, "What's your name?"

"W-willow… Willow Rosenberg…"

"Willow?" the boy asked. Willow nodded. "Like the tree," he commented, "Cool. My name's Xander."

"Hi…"

"So, uh," Xander began, "you wouldn't happen to have any yellow, would you, Willow?"

Willow squeaked. No… He couldn't have seen…

"It's just that I'm trying to draw the sun, and all the yellow crayons at this table are taken… I was just wondering if I could borrow one of yours."

"You…" Willow whimpered, "You need it?"

"Well, I guess I could make it night if I had to, but I just wanted to make sure."

Willow dug through the box. There had to be another yellow crayon somewhere. But it was no use hoping… She had the last one. And she'd broken it.

"I mean, if you don't have one…" Xander began, but his voice trailed off when he saw that Willow had begun to cry.

Great. Now she'd started. Once she started, she'd never be able to stop… Willow couldn't see anything, but she was sure everyone was staring at her now. She had no reason to cry. She was the one who ruined everything. If anyone should have been crying, it was Xander. He was the one who couldn't have the yellow crayon. And it was all her fault. But no, boys didn't cry. It was just her crying, because she was a crybaby. She knew it, and she hated it. But she just couldn't help it. She just couldn't stop.

"It's okay if you don't have one," Xander insisted, sitting down next to her, "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

Willow shook her head. "It's not that," she said, forcing the words out her throat.

"Then why are you crying?"

Willow sniffled. She couldn't bring herself to say it.

"You can tell me," said Xander.

Willow shook her head.

"Please?" Xander asked, "Maybe I can help."

"You…" Willow sniveled, "You promise you won't tell?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

Willow held her breath. _I broke the yellow crayon._ That was all she had to say. Five words. It should have been easy. But it was just too horrible to say it out loud. What if someone heard her? No, she couldn't let that happen. Willow reached into her backpack and clutched the pieces into her tiny fist. She stared at it for a moment, scared to death. But she didn't need to be, she told herself. She could trust Xander. But if he knew what she'd done, would he want to be her friend anymore? Would he even talk to her again? Willow supposed it didn't matter. She'd already pushed herself into a corner by crying. And she couldn't keep it a secret forever, the guilt was already too much.

Willow closed her eyes, pointed her arm and Xander, and slowly opened her hand, letting out a tiny squeak.

"You broke it?" Xander asked.

"Please don't be mad at me!" Willow begged him, tears coming down like waterfalls now, "Please don't tell!"

"It's really not that big of a deal," said Xander, laying his hand on Willow's trembling shoulder.

"How can you say that?" Willow cried, pulling herself away from him, "It is a big deal! Maybe if it was the black crayon or the white crayon, it would be a little deal, but this is the yellow crayon! You can't have the sun without the yellow crayon! I-if you don't have the sun, then it has to be night all the time, and… And it's cold, a-and the flowers are all going to die because they don't have sunlight, and you can't even have stars or-or sunflowers—"

"Hey, calm down…"

"I can't! I can't calm down! I killed all the sunflowers…" Willow's voice shrunk. "I… No one's gonna want to be my friend if I killed all the sunflowers…"

"I do."

Willow froze, then slowly turned her head towards Xander. "You… What?"

"I'll be your friend, Willow."

"But…" Willow sobbed, "But I broke the yellow crayon…"

"It's okay. You didn't mean to."

"I meant to hide it, though… I should've turned myself in, but… But I was too scared… I…"

"It doesn't matter. I'll still love you."

Willow's sobbing began to die down. "…You mean it?"

Xander squeezed Willow's hand and took one half of the crayon. "Of course I do." He moved Willow's sunflower closer to him. "And look," he said, drawing another petal, "It still works, see?"

Willow sniffled. "You mean… You mean the flowers get to live? We can have the sun?"

"And your sunflower," Xander added.

Willow wiped her face with her arm and looked at her half of the crayon. She leaned over the paper and slowly sketched another petal next to Xander's. It really did work…

"And this can be our crayon now," said Xander, "We'll share it, okay?"

"And…" Willow said, "You really want to be my friend?"

"We can be _best_ friends," said Xander, "From now on."

Willow's eyes filled with tears once again… But this time, they were happy. She had a friend now… A best friend. He loved her, even though she broke the yellow crayon and cried so much. She looked at their sunflower, then looked back at Xander. Willow threw herself into his arms.

**Seriously, THANK YOU JOSS. x3 Willow's so cute already, I just loved writing her mini self. And Xander… I kept hearing his adult voice. I don't know why. It's weird. But whatevs. This is usually the part where I critique my story… Except I've pretty much used up all my creative juices for the day. xD So I'll leave it to you reviewers… Every time someone faves without reviewing, Angelus nails a puppy to a wall. That's all I'm sayin'. Lol. Thank you for reading! :)**


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